Tick of a Pocketwatch
by Kikiura
Summary: I had done everything I had been told, but why did I feel so empty? Seiner, semi AU-ish.


"A new friendship is like an unripened fruit - it may become either an orange or a lemon"

- Emma Stacey

**XxXxX**

There have always been defining moments in life, whether it's when you first learn how to ride a bike or when you gain a friend without the insistent prodding of your parents. Everyone's had their fair share of those moments, whether you realize it or not. Maybe your first broken heart would teach you to watch out for jerks. Maybe the first time you dance in the rain do you realize that everything can be washed away with time.

Personally, the day I received my grandfather's pocket watch was a _very_ defining moment.

And, of course, it was because of that day that I became an asshole.

**XxXxX**

I was six at the time; too young to fully understand things, but old enough to think that I did. I knew that the sun was a big ball of fire and that throwing sand was mean. But, really, I didn't know much of anything. I didn't know why my grandpa Cid had white hair and used a cane, or why he called me Poppet when my name was Seifer. I never bothered asking, though. Grandpa was Grandpa, old and frail.

There was this one time I visited him ,though, that I can never forget, no matter how hard I might try. I had found myself in his hospital room, not because I necessarily wanted to visit, but because my mom was too busy with one of her daycare kids who might have broken his arm. I should have just stayed home, but the witch knew I had played a part in the kid's injury, so I was forced to go, if only to suffer her wrath on the walk home.

Not _my_ fault Squall was sitting on my tree branch.

I had forgotten why my Grandpa was in the hospital in the first place, but there he was, awake and moving and still telling old-man stories about when he was a boy in Balamb and when he had moved to Twilight Town and whatnot.

He then asked me how I was doing, and I tried to think of a good enough answer for him. I told him about Squall - and left out how it was my fault - and about the quiet girl in my class I had a crush on who already had a stupid boyfriend with a thick skull. I then told him about my best friend, who was a whole year younger than me. He went to my mom's daycare with his older brother, so the two of us played a lot.

Grandpa just smiled as he listened to me go on about Hayner and how his hair looked funny. The old man stopped me in the middle of my rather long rant about just how much fun it was to have a friend I could cry on -not like I ever _needed_ to cry, mind you, but the concept was nice- only to look at me and cough a bit. I had never had a staring contest with an old man before, so I accepted it as a challenge and listened intently as he spoke. My eyes never left his bright blue gaze for a second.

"Seifer, I'm going to teach you something important, alright? No matter what you do in life, you will always feel the need to share with someone. You may lose track of yourself and cave to emotions. You will be a man someday, Seifer, and men do not rely on others. People may rely on you, and do not consider them lesser than yourself. Some simply need more guidance than others, but you should never need any. We Kramers are strong folk. Remember that, boy."

I nodded, still watching him.

He began digging for something in his book bag. "I want you to take this. Think of it as an early birthday present."

I smiled and looked away from him to examine the old watch. It was very simple, but it was kept in good condition. "Thanks, Grandpa!"

I would _like_ to say my mom and I left peacefully and my grandpa died in his sleep, but, unfortunately, I cannot. His speech wasn't the _only_ unforgettable thing from that day.

As a reminder of things best remembered, that watch still sits in my pocket

**XxXxX**

I was only eight when my world starting falling down around me. There weren't enough kids in Twilight Town that needed daycare anymore. No matter how hard it was for her, my mom admitted defeat and sold that place to some young guy who wanted to open up a karate dojo. We then had to move out of our little bungalow and into an apartment near the high school where my mom would substitute occasionally between hospital visits and her reoccurring sick days. She told me it was just a bad cold and that it would go away eventually. I knew from my grandpa that people who went to the hospital a lot died.

On top of this, teachers at my school were telling me that I could talk to them about what was happening if I ever wanted. It hurt my pride to think that these people thought I needed support. My grandpa said I didn't, so I didn't. Old people were always right… right?

What was worse was Hayner. Every day at recess, he asked me how my mom was, and told me that I could go over to his place if I ever wanted to just take a break. He told me she was probably just really sad that my dad had left, and that she would be better.

One day, I snapped. I wasn't listening to my teachers, I pushed kids out of my way and I sat by myself on the playground, watching all the other kids play without a care in the world.

It wasn't fair. If I was suffering, why was no one else? Sure, I couldn't just open my heart to the world and let everyone see what my life was _really_ like, but they could at least try to understand. Right?

Hayner came up to me and stood tall, crossing his arms and pouting. He looked really cute, almost like a girl…

Wait, what?

"Seifer Almasy, you are going to talk to me and you are going to tell me what is wrong," he said sternly, trying to make himself seem like the more important one in the situation.

"Don't wanna," I simply glared at him, and pulled my knees closer to myself.

The younger boy's pout intensified. "Then I'm gonna make you wanna! My mom said your mom was in the hospital, like Zell when he got his huge scar on his stomach, and that made me really sad, cause that means your mom's sick. She's your mom, so you'd be sadder than me. So I want you to talk about it."

I stood up, towering over the smaller boy."I said I don't wanna talk about it, Hayner."

He puffed out his chest and looked me in the eye, looking mildly distressed under the tough kid act. "Talking makes things better! My mom said so. She talks to people all day about this kind of stuff, so she knows she's right. You're gonna wanna talk sometime, so why not now?"

And then I did something for which I have never truly forgiven myself. I punched Hayner if the face, breaking his nose.

**XxXxX**

I had tried to make myself hate him, tried to keep that distance I had needed. I still wanted to be friends with him. However, I knew that if I were close to him, he would keep trying to open me up. I knew I would have answered him if it hadn't been such a bad day. I sure as hell would answer him now if he decided to ask me again.

For years after, I stopped being friends with Hayner. I was all alone at recess. Older kids had decided to pick on me, until Raijin and Fuujin stepped in one day and scared them off. I was quickly accepted by them as a third wheel, but we were more a tricycle than anything. Since the two of them were always together, we decided I would take the lead in a sense. We somewhat bullied other kids, keeping them away from us whenever possible. It was the ideal situation for all of us; no one asked me to do anything I didn't want to do (asides from homework, but that was unavoidable), Fuu didn't get picked on because of her odd speech impediment, and no one called Rai stupid anymore for fear of getting themselves beat up. The two of them never bugged me about anything. I never really pried into their side of things either, unless Rai decided to tell me something or other.

Remnants of my friendship with Hayner remained, though, like the small "get well soon" cards for my mom that I found on my desk from time to time, or the odd "friendly" struggle when we didn't insult one another and simply fought for the sake of fighting, not because of some misplaced rivalry.

Once we hit high school, things really went to hell. I had agreed to be friends with Hayner's little troupe in a defiance of fate the summer before I had started grade ten , simply to show whatever higher power up there that I wasn't going to accept any more of its bullshit.

And, of course, after her near constant stay at the hospital, my mom finally kicked the bucket later that year. By that point, I had gotten used to being alone. The funeral was small, but Hayner went with his family, which somewhat brightened my dreary day. Rai and Fuu were there, but they never really knew my mom, so it wasn't as nice, I guess. It felt weird, seeing someone I had alienated myself from cry over someone he had only known from daycare and some hospital visits in the past year. (My mom made me bring him in. It was not done on my own will.)

I walked away from the graveyard by myself, Rai and Fuu leaving earlier to finish their homework. Yes, I was completely crushed that my mother had died from something that had kept her away from me for most of my life, but I refused to cry in public. It was the Kramer pride, I suppose.

I heard Hayner say something, and turned my head when I realized that it was my name, and it was getting progressively louder. I turned around to see the younger teen running towards me. "Seifer?"

I tried to beg him nonverbally to just leave me to suffer in peace. "What do you want, Hayner? I have things to do." My voice was dead flat as I spoke, too torn to really say anything else.

He looked down at his feet, embarrassed. "Well, um, I was wondering if maybe you'd like to stay with us a bit? You know, distance yourself from all this and-"

I sighed, interrupting him. "I have things to do, Hayner. Tell your mom that I'm perfectly fine on my own."

I walked off before he could respond, grateful he didn't follow me. I wouldn't have been able to resist the temptation to just talk. I followed the narrow, winding roads to my apartment, fiddling with the antique watch in my pocket.

I had done everything my grandpa had told me, but why did I feel so empty?

**XxXxXxXxXxX**

Tada! This story was written for Camobeanie's "Beating the Cliche" competition over on dA. I got #14 Childhood Friends. Lemme tell you, it is not easy trying to make something work out properly.

This story was initially planned longer, but I was kind of too lazy to type all of my writing out. So, sorry guys, but you just got the shorter version.

Oh! And there will be a sequel eventually? I still have to type it up, but it's called Tock of a Clocktower. Guess whose story that is?

**Now edited by my ex-english teacher. It should be better now...


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